Tin
by Allronix
Summary: While imprisoned in the Tin Suit, Wyatt Cain had come to curse the oath he once made. Through the journey he takes and the three companions he guards, he begins to remember and reclaim his vows.
1. Chapter 1

_**Title**: Tin  
**Author**: Allronix  
**Characters/Pairing**: Cain POV  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Summary**: Wyatt Cain had come to curse the oath he made.  
**Warning**: Some cursing, violence  
**Disclaimer**: Oz was created by Baum. Certain concepts are property of Maguire. Long-Mitchell and Van Sickle cooked up this variant._

* * *

_**I swear to defend with my axe**_

_**And to shield with my tin,**_

Empress Dorothy was one of those historical personages where myth and fact blurred together, fantastic tales of her era told to children sat side by side with serious historical analysis. Some of the religious nuts still thought Dorothy had been a reincarnation of the Fae Goddess Lurline. The more clear-headed types concluded she was likely a sorceress from the Eastern Lands until it came out that she was a Slipper. After all, she showed up wearing Munchkin blue and sorceress white in her dress, her house dropping on Nessarose of the East from out of nowhere and killing her. She had been on her way to Central City with a fellow who'd later become Oz's Regent. They'd happened on Nicholas Chopper, the first Tin Man, who'd been rusted solid by a sudden squall, conscious, but unable to move. Oiling up his frozen joints, it was said he swore his unwavering loyalty to the future Empress on the spot, vowing always to _"defend you with my axe, and shield you with my tin." _

Cain never did remember the details of what was truth and what was gump-shit. History hadn't been his favorite subject, even if he was inclined towards book learning, which he wasn't. Still, there were only so many ways to keep one's sanity when jailed in hell. History was definitely a better subject than watching Zero and his squad turn his boy's face into a mass of bruises and swelling.

According to the legend, Nicholas Chopper had once been just an ordinary man, a simple woodcutter from the Eastern Lands; Munchkin Country, they called it back then. He had the misfortune to cross Nessarose, the Witch of the East, when he fell for the witch's maid. He asked permission to marry the girl, but Nessarose settled the matter in a more brutal fashion, bespelling his axe so he'd chop himself to bits.

A tinner – a maker of cyborg parts and robots – came by and saved him by replacing the hacked-off bits with a tin body welded to iron joints. Of course, the solution wasn't perfect. First, the iron joints would rust if he stayed out in the rain. Second, there was only so much you could destroy in a man before he stopped being a man and became something else. By all accounts, Nicholas Chopper was no longer a man. He was said to have no heart whatsoever.

At about the two-hundredth playback of that hologram, Cain concluded that Nessarose had been pretty damn merciful.

One by one, his comrades had decided to turn their back on the oath they'd sworn. They stopped being Tin Men and became Longcoats, loyal only to the Witch Azkedellia. They'd asked him over and over if he'd join, but he kept stalling, changing the subject. Good people went bad, others wound up in "accidents" that weren't. He tried to hand in his badge, but he just got told to keep it. A week later, the Last Stand happened, and there were no more Tin Men.

He and Adora discussed it long and hard in the dark of night. If they did nothing, it may have been safer. They had a better chance of seeing Jeb grow up. However, Tin Men did not stand around while the good of the Zone suffered. Neither would Adora. If the good men and women did nothing, then the Witch already won and there'd be no future to leave to Jeb. Or, so they told themselves.

And now, he was locked in that tin and iron shell, watching as the Longcoats beat his boy, dragging him off into the woods. He watched as they held Adora down and...

The worst part was that there wasn't a way to close his eyes to it. That nasty little device had magic in it, too. Eyes open, eyes shut, same thing. Wyatt Cain had come to curse the oath he made.

Something was different this time. There was a female shout and a girl charged up, swinging a stick that went right through the holos. If it had actually been Zero and company there and not just holograms, they'd have shot her on sight. Charging in, screaming at the top of her lungs for them to back off and armed with nothing more than a stick? Was she insane? A gawky-looking man came up behind her, staring at everything like it was a gigantic puzzle.

_Well, this is it, Cain. You've finally gone crazy._

She walked up and knocked on the Suit. Was she going to -? He knocked back, and saw her run off. What was left of his hope crashed to the ground, but only a second later, he heard more pounding and the sound of clattering metal echoed in his tiny hell.

The suit/coffin opened and he collapsed into a heap on the soggy ground. They probably thought him dead or crazy. Either way, it wasn't too far off base.

The odd man in bedraggled clothes poked him with a stick. "Well he's alive."

"Glitch!" She snatched that stick and tossed it aside.

"Well, he's alive!"

That's when Cain got a good look at the zipper on the fellow's crown. If he could have rolled his eyes, he would have. Unnamed God, his rescuers were escaped convicts!

"I think he's in shock," she said. "He's gonna need help."

"Help...help..." The zipper-head's perpetual confusion grew deeper. "We could ask those nice fellows back..." Half-Wit shook his head as if to rearrange his precious few marbles. "No, their cages were most inhospitable. No good for this poor fellow. Shock...first aid would be getting the victim warm..."

"Come on, let's get him inside." There was a roll of thunder across the sky.

"Um, D.G.?"

She was already dragging him back to the cabin, or trying to. "We can't just leave him out here. The Longcoats did that to him, and they'll do worse if they catch him free."

They drug him inside and covered him up with a musty blanket. "Stay put," the girl said. "We're going to find some food, okay?

* * *

All they were doing was making themselves Longcoat bait, staying behind to look after him. They did make a small fire in the hearth, which warmed things up, putting him on his bed, close to the fire. They scoured what was left of his home, but they weren't looting anything. There wasn't much to loot.

"Whose shirt is this?" Head-case held it up to his own chest. "It's too big. I'll have to find a tailor."

The girl walked in the door with an armload of nuts and fruit gathered from the garden that was now overrun with weeds, a few hardy crop plants surviving the years. Putting the food on table (which was listing badly with the years of neglect), she glanced over her shoulder. "It's probably his. Hand it over, Glitch."

The girl sat down beside him. Dark hair and bright blue eyes that were just as innocent as the head-case's. He was looking for something that gave her away – fear, defiance, survival instinct.

She brushed the matted hair from his face, and the only thing he could find on her was innocence. How the hell could anyone be innocent after fifteen years of Azkedellia's reign of terror? The head-case at least had an excuse for being blissfully unaware.

"My name's D.G. What's yours? Can you talk?"

Cain tried to speak, tried to cuss them out or tell them that they could march right off his property the way they came in. His jaw wouldn't work – like it had rusted shut.

He must have passed out because he came to some hours later. The layers of grime that covered him were gone. Now, he was wearing a nightshirt, propped up in his bed like a puppet. Every sensation from the cotton of his nightshirt to the softness of the pillow and the scratchy wool blanket was overwhelming and every noise was too LOUD – the crackle of the fire they shouldn't have made, the soft snoring of the zipper-head curled up, absurdly, in Jeb's bed. The girl was dozing at the foot of his bed, resting fitfully and murmuring in her sleep. In the firelight, he saw her claw at the air and saw the flickering light glinting off tears. She was trapped in her own hell when she slept.

But it was said the first Tin Man had no heart, and neither did this former one.

He watched her sleep.

* * *

The only salvageable clothing they could find was his work clothes – duster coat, vest, clean shirt, clean pants, riding boots, and his hat. They'd been stowed with his badge down in the storm cellar, so they were musty, but tolerable. A close shave solved the rest. Cain made sure his service revolver was in working order, and almost choked when he saw Jeb's prized tin horse buried in the bottom of the footlocker. Quickly, Cain put it in his pocket. _I'll be with you both soon._

He only picked up the badge out of habit. It was a useless thing and reminded him that no good deed went unpunished in the O. Z. Time to ditch these two and take care of business.

"Yeah, well," Cain told them. "I'll see you down the road."

"Oh," D.G.'s started to run up to him. "Actually, a road is what we're looking for. We're looking for the..." She was racking her brain. "Brick road that leads to a place called... "

And Glitch chimed in. "Central City?"

"Central City," she said with him. "Do you know of it?"

How could someone who WASN'T sporting a zippered skull not know of the Old Road or the City? Something wasn't quite right with these two, and not just the obvious. Cain paused a moment. He could just point the direction, give them bad directions, or tell them he was headed elsewhere.

No. these were good people, and good people were a rarity in the O.Z. Besides, the girl was what? Twenty annuals? Definitely not twenty-five of them yet. They weren't much interested in self preservation, judging by their delay in helping him. What kind of criminals were these?

A leftover part of decorum kicked in. _Tin Men don't lie._

"I'm headed there now."

This pair would turn tail as soon as there was any danger, and that was fine by him. All he had to do was get to the City and take down Zero. There was enough ammo in his left pocket to do the job and take out a few more of the Longcoat bastards should they get in his way. If, for some reason, he wasn't shot dead in the attempt?

That's what the single bullet in his right pocket was for.


	2. Chapter 2

_**The safety of the innocent that is more dear than my own.**_

_**From the smallest insect to the greatest monarch...**_

Ten to one, Nicholas Chopper hadn't had days like this. And even if he had, the odds were probably better. All he knew at the time was that Zero was long overdue for a slow, painful death.

They picked up one more charity case, a Viewer. His kind were enchanted Animals. Not the small "a" that meant no sentience, but the big "A." He could just _hear_ his grandfather and his father-in-law now, hollering that there wasn't a distinction and that Viewers were just another of the abominations that came about in the wars of the Witches, just like the papay.. He never gave much thought to the "big A" and "little a" debate, either, and he sure as hell wasn't liking the idea of a empathic, cowardly, walking carpet along for the ride. But, you really couldn't out-stubborn D.G., especially when she let you know with a glance that you would be nothing short of a hypocrite if you left the furball to become mutant chow.

The Papay had attacked, and they fled for their lives, jumping off a cliff into the river below. It was nothing short of a miracle that they had all survived. The wound in his leg burned like fire, but he wasn't going to let it slow him down.

The Viewer sat some distance away, looking into space. Cain gathered firewood and kept watch. He knew that if he sat down, he wasn't going to be up anytime soon.

D.G. approached the Viewer, only to have him snatch her arm. Cain went for his pistol to put the beast down. "Stay right there."

She raised her hand. "It's okay. We're all friends here."

Damn her. Damn her trusting nature. It was going to get her killed! Cain shook his head. Why was it that he even cared one way or another?

"You are sad," the Viewer said heavily, stroking her hand. "Miss your mother and father...They miss you."

She bent down. Cain didn't lower his gun.

"My name's D.G. What's yours?"

Taking a stick, the Viewer scratched three letters in the sand.

R-A-W

"Raw," Glitch remarked nonchalantly. "Well, it's certainly to the point."

Raw growled in response. Cain rolled his eyes and holstered his pistol. All growl and no bite. This Viewer was a coward.

She examined Raw's scalp, almost touching the spot on the back of his head – the "third eye" as it was known among their kind. Cain had little experience with Viewers, but he was starting to wonder where this girl dropped from. He and Glitch briefly explained what Raw was before he went to get more wood.

"Look," he told her bluntly. "I don't know where you came from, but if you have any interest in staying alive in the O. Z., you'd better get one fact straight real fast." He stood up and locked eyes with her. "Trust no one."

He turned away from the others, and that's when his aching leg gave out. Glitch and D.G. came to his side, and Glitch lifted his duster to see the angry, red wound. It confirmed what Cain already knew.

"That's hopeless. Runners got him with fang pox!"

Raw walked over timidly. "Heal wound," he offered. "Soothe."

Cain felt more fear at that than facing a horde of papay. Damn it, his mind was his own and like hell he would surrender that without having a say-so. He started to protest when Raw put his hands on Cain's wounded leg.

He _felt _something like a red line coming out of Raw and into him as his life flashed before his eyes. _Stop it. Don't make me..._

The pain was leaving as the Viewer ghosted over his memories and into his heart. Resigned, he stopped resisting and just let the Viewer see what was there. It's not like he had a choice at this point; just a final indignity to endure.

Raw smiled serenely. "Brave man...Good man..." Those eerie eyes looked up into his own. "Tin Man."

Damn it.

"Oh, I might have known you were a Tin Man," Glitch said. "Oh, with that attitude!"

He wanted them all to shut up and go away. Damn Viewer had no right to invade his mind like that and that crazy zipperhead could go straight to hell.

"You're a cop?" D.G. asked.

"Was. Till Zero found out I was part of the Resistance." The Tin Men died with their Last Stand in Central City. There were only four left in the end, two of them surrendered like cowards and the third died. Only he escaped. "You saw the rest."

He had no interest or reason to hold the Oath anymore.

* * *

As they approached the City, it was crawling with Longcoats, with no way in. Cain was about to suggest the sewer system when...

The Unnamed...Lurline...some deity was with them because one look at that whorehouse on wheels gave them their shot. A little blackmail and earlobe-twisting did the rest. De Milo sat in front with a man dressed in women's clothing while Cain sat between the front seat and the cabin in back.

"I am a preacher! I am a humble messenger of the Pleasure Faith!" De Milo was still trying to justify his operation.

Cain slouched low in his seat. "You and every other pimp I've cuffed."

De Milo settled for waving his cigar around like a pointer. "Aw, don't get like that. 'Sides, there ain't no Tin Men, not anymore. I'm giving you the ride 'cause I like you, Wyatt. Real stand-up guy."

"Keep driving."

They'd buried Raw, D.G., and Glitch under the blankets. Cain looked over his shoulder and was grateful that they all stayed down as they rolled slowly past the patrols and onto the city streets. Least he could do for them, as they'd all be parting company in the City, anyway.

De Milo looked to the back and the twin whores sitting there. "Hey, Cain. Heard your old lady's dead. I'm sure my girls can -"

The gun went to De Milo's head. "Finish that sentence, and I blow your head off."

"Gotcha!" Pulling to the side, De Milo parked his truck. "Good driving, Mara. Okay, we're in."

Three heads poked up from the blankets. D.G. was all business. "Okay, where can we find the Mystic Man?"

"Excuse me. Do I have a sign on my back that says 'Central City Taxi and Tourist Information?"

Cain couldn't help it. He grabbed the little sleeze's shirt and glowered.– just for old time's sake. De Milo got awfully contrite. "So, the Mystic Man? That's who you come here for?"

"Is he still in Central City?" Cain asked. Frankly, it was surprising the Mystic Man had even survived. As Mayor of Central City and a rumored Wizard (Cain suspected that he did practice magic, but he never caught his former boss at it), he would have been one of Azkedellia's bigger targets.

"Oh, he's here all right,." De Milo admitted in that snide tone that never ceased to boil Cain's blood. "He's just not holding court where he used to."

Cain slammed the guy's head against the roof, and pushed him to the ground. De Milo ignored it and pulled two slips of paper from his jacket, holding them up to D.G. "These'll get you front row seats." When D.G. reached across for them, De Milo pulled them back. "You can't go dressed like that, cupcake." His tone was all poppies and honey. "Maybe my girls can find you something."

His eyes went to D.G.'s chest, and Cain almost shot the guy right there. The O.Z. may have gone to hell in his absence, but that little slimebag hadn't changed a bit. Cain grabbed him by the collar and threw him backwards. "Go find her something." He spared a glance for D.G. as he checked the ammo in his revolver. "Look, the Mystic Man will have all your answers. You don't need me anymore."

D.G. looked up at him, those innocent eyes asking him to stay, and he almost caved.

"Don't go after Zero. You're not a killer – you're a Tin Man."

It cut him. She was right. Tin Men didn't kill unless they had to, but there weren't any Tin Men anymore. All he had was a useless badge, a functioning gun, and a pocket of ammo. He pushed it down, thinking of his wife and son – they needed to be avenged, and he didn't want the girl seeing that. _She doesn't deserve to watch me die. The others will take care of her._ "I told you I'd get you here, and I did," he said firmly, as much to remind himself as her. "Take care of yourself, kid."


	3. Chapter 3

_**I defend the good from the wicked; so I must be pure of heart**_

_**I defend the truth; so I must never lie.**_

He'd headed through the Sin District, past the ramshackle shops and brothels, down an alley where common whores waited for clients. He knew Zero frequented this place when he was still sporting Tin – the first wife tolerated it up to a point. The second one vanished into thin air after she caught him at the Wild Horse. Which is why we went straight for there. He heard the honeyed voice of Amber, one of Zero's favorites, and when she told him that Zero was after "some girl smuggled into the city," Cain ran out of there like his feet were on fire.

Sneaking in through the fire exits, he got there just as the Longcoats had them cornered. Ambushing them, he knocked out one and held his gun on the other. Cain barely got the threat out of his mouth before Glitch took a heavy bottle and clubbed the Longcoat over the head, dragging him inside with Raw's aid.

Maybe the Zipperhead wasn't as useless as he looked.

D.G. was standing there, wearing a gauzy black dress with a flower in her hair. She wouldn't be able to run far in the shoes she had borrowed, but they'd have to try.

"We gotta go."

"I can't," she protested. "He's not well."

"Who's not well?"

She stood aside and Cain's heart sank. He was still white-haired and blue eyed, but everything else changed for the worst. The Mystic Man's face was contorted with pain as his muscles spasmed uncontrollably. He was in so much pain that his face was twisted in agony, sweat and tears streaming down his face without dignity.

"Oh, my." Cain breathed. "That's not the Mystic Man I remember. Azkedellia's really messed him up." He knew the withdrawal symptoms after seeing them too many times on the faces of the desperate. "She's got him on Vapors."

He knelt by the old man's chair, his own muscles aching in sympathy. So many years ago, the Mystic Man was the one who held the Oziad out for Cain to take the oath on, who pressed the small tin badge into Cain's palm and beamed with pride when welcoming him to the ranks.

"Hey," Cain spoke gently. Mystic Man's eyes lit in recognition for a second before glazing over again. "Until this wears off, you're gonna have to hurt for a while, okay?"

"I need answers now," D.G. reminded him.

"You'll get the Vapors talking, not him," he reminded her.

"Do you think Zero's gonna wait?" She asked.

Hell, if he didn't know better, he'd say she was thinking like a Tin Man. Cain sighed and moved away, letting her kneel by him. He didn't think she was going to get anything, so he moved to guard the door. Glitch stood right behind him.

"My brain probably works better than his right now," Glitch whispered.

"I know," muttered Cain. "What I want to know is why she's on the wanted posters. What's she done?"

"Done?" Glitch shook his head. "I...I only met her a half-day before you did. I..." He stopped mid-sentence. "Where are we again?"

And that's when the Mystic Man dropped the bombshell.

"You have most brilliant, beautiful blue eyes," Mystic Man told D.G.. "But your mother...Your mother had lavender."

_Lavender_ eyes?

Cain turned around, shocked. It all made sense!

He should have seen it in Milltown. Smuggling a child out of the O.Z.? Nurture Units? A direct referral to the Mystic Man? The sigil of House Gale that was burned into her palm? There was no way it could have been true. Ozma Galinda, the "lavender eyed queen" as she was known, had two daughters. One was Azkedellia and the other was supposed to be dead! The timeline would have been just right, however, and faking a witness's death was a drastic, but well-honored tactic.

"Dorothy?" Glitch breathed. "Oh, Lurline...Galinda must have -" He flinched and then his eyes went blank, whatever knowledge he possessed vanishing into that void where half his brain had been.

The girl may have used her initials, but her full name was Dorothy Grace the Second – great-granddaughter of Empress Dorothy Grace, the Slipper Queen of Oz, the same heroine who established the Tin Men as a living memorial to a rusted woodcutter.

He had been sure that Glitch had put it all together at that point, and knew something far more about it than Cain did, before it went into that black hole where half his brain used to be. Maybe the guy wasn't completely nuts after all. Cain knew from personal experience that the more you ticked Azkedellia off, the more creative her punishment was. Cain was starting to believe that the headcase might not have been a criminal any more than he had been.

Not much time to think on that as they had to stay one step ahead of the Longcoats.

Just as he tried to pry her away, the Mystic Man leaped from his seat and grabbed his lapels with a strength he didn't know the old man ever possessed.

"Cain! Cain, you were one of mine! Weren't you? A Tin Man?"

"A long time ago," he sadly told Mystic Man.

Glitch spotted trouble, and the Mystic Man hurriedly gave D.G. instructions to find the Northern Island while Cain yanked open a window.

"Go!" he told the others. He would stay here. He would go down, proudly, next to the man he served while giving them a fighting chance.

"No!" The Mystic Man said, as if sensing his thoughts. "No. You stay with her at all costs."

"I have to take care of Zero."

"You know who she is now," the old man argued. "She's the key! Promise me..."

Cain looked towards the window. The Mystic Man pressed on.

"I want your word as a Tin Man! You will not leave her side at _any _cost."

Cain knew what it meant. He was leaving his old mentor behind, leaving him to die once the Longcoats pried out what he knew. He would be giving up his quest to avenge his family. He also knew that the four of them versus all of Azkedellia's forces had as much chance as a scarecrow in a jackdaw's nest. He wanted to shout that there were no more Tin Men, that he stopped being one the day of the Last Stand.

But the Oath came back to haunt him, and the devotion he still had for the Mystic Man was as strong as ever. He couldn't let his teacher...his friend...die in vain.

"You have my word," he said solemnly.

The old man smiled and lightly slapped Cain's arm, the jovial mayor he had been returning for just a moment as he turned towards the door and left to meet his fate.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Standing guard so others may rest, I work and do not tire.**_

_**I am prepared at any moment to give my life for those I protect.**_

It was a long, silent trip up what was left of the Northern Branch. The wasteland around the Central City gave way to fields of heather. The purple tips of the plant could color the ground for miles, and was the primary reason Gillikin was known as the "purple country."

The good news was that there wasn't much of a Longcoat presence to deal with. The parts of Gillikin Country that weren't covered in heather were covered by factory and university towns – Shiz, Dixxi House, Settica. The population tended to be more interested in their purses than their principles, and the banking cabals were quick to sense the direction the wind blew, placing their money and loyalty with Azkedellia. Even here, however, the life of the common man changed for the worse – longer hours and more factories producing arms. It was rumoured that once she crushed the last of the Resistance, Azkedellia planned on conquering the Nome Kingdom, or invading Ev, which had been a traditional ally.

Cain cursed. If he could somehow find the Resistance, there would be a way to verify the girl's identity, and keep her safe. That way, he could keep his word to Mystic Man and still manage to finish the job.

Lowering the brim of the hat over his forehead to further obscure his expression, Cain couldn't shake a nagging confusion. It wasn't as though he had to follow the Mystic Man's orders, and the old man was so high on Vapors he could have been mistaking DG for something she wasn't.

_Don't even think about breaking your word, _Cain scolded himself. _You break your word, and you're no better than Zero. It's not just her, or the Mystic Man, or even your family you'd __dishonor__ if you abandoned her. You're the last of them – the last to carry the Oath of a Tin Man and the good name of Nick Chopper. You walk away from it, and you might as well piss on every grave that sports the Tin Star._

DG's hand clasped his shoulder. "Mr. Cain?"

Cain jerked up, and looked over to the passenger seat. "What now, DG?"

She scowled, confused. "Nothing, you just looked like you were falling asleep at the wheel. I can drive for a while."

Now, it was his turn to scowl with confusion. "You're a wanted fugitive now."

DG snorted. "Please, Cain. After that stunt at the theater, they'd shoot you first. You take the shotgun seat, and give me directions, okay?"

Again, he didn't seem inclined to argue with her, and they pulled over to swap seats while Glitch and Raw slept in the back. He kept one hand on his pistol and watched the road for trouble. She took the controls and drove like she had been behind a wheel for years.

"Where exactly are you from, anyway?" Cain asked. Somehow, the whole notion that this ordinary-looking girl was a long-lost Princess was a little hard for him to believe. Part of him didn't want it to be true. The other part didn't dare get its hopes up.

She shrugged. "Place called Sutter's Hill. It's in Kansas." DG glanced over at him.

"Kansas...Kansas..." Cain could have sworn he heard some reference to a place called that many annuals ago, but couldn't place where. "That somewhere in Ev, maybe?"

"Ev? Try America," she said. "And it's not much. The houses are old and shabby, and there's practically nothing for miles except for gray, flat prairie. No one except truckers and farmers pass through."

"But it was home to you?" Cain asked, fishing for more information. His attention was still on the road, looking for danger.

DG appeared to think about it for about a half-mile. She let out a sad sigh. "No."

"Where was home? What do you remember of it?"

When she spoke, her voice was on the fine edge of breaking. "Bits...pieces...dreams. I remember feeling so empty all the time..."

"What about people? Those tik-toks didn't jail you up, did—"

She cut him off with a glare. "Mr. Cain, this woman we're trying to find may have given birth to me, but those 'tik-toks,' as you call them, were my mother and father in every way that matters." Her voice cracked and she wiped her eye with the back of her hand. "The idea that they're just..." DG's hands were curled so tightly around the steering wheel that her knuckles were white. "I want so much for this to be a bad movie."

"Movie?" he asked.

"Just a story...one with moving pictures," she explained hastily. "There was one I saw, late at night on the TV. Girl gets caught in a storm, ends up in this other world. She meets some strange people, and has to go through all sorts of trouble just to find the way back home." DG rolled her shoulders like she was trying to get a knotted muscle stretched. "It turned out she smacked her head, and dreamed the whole thing. The friends she made in that other land were just the farmhands that worked for her parents, twisted up by the dream."

Half of what she was talking about went over Cain's head. Kansas definitely seemed a peculiar place. "Still think this is some kind of dream?"

"Let's just say, if you turn out to be that deputy that kept handing out speeding tickets when he wasn't trying to get in my pants, someone's ass is getting kicked."

Cain raised an eyebrow. "But you still haven't mentioned anyone else from your...Kansas, aside from your parents. Not once this entire trip."

She jerked up like she'd been hit. "You've been paying attention?"

He nodded.

"There's not a lot to mention," she said. "I told you it was empty. Somehow, I always knew I didn't belong there. I...kept looking to escape, and did a lot of stupid things. I could be in the middle of a party and the feeling that I was alone wouldn't go away."

"That's universal," Cain said cynically. "We're born alone and we die alone. Rest of the time, we're trying to forget those facts."

"I don't buy it," DG said. "Not anymore."

"How so?"

"I've spent the last two days running into disaster. I don't know half of what's going on, or how I've managed to piss off Azkedellia. I don't even know who I really am." She looked to the cabin where Raw and Glitch were sleeping. "But I don't feel empty."

She looked back at Cain and put one hand over his, squeezing lightly. "And I don't feel alone anymore, either."

"I'm only here because I promised the Mystic Man," Cain told her. No sense in leading the girl on.

"I know," she said. "But thanks anyway."

Her hand felt overly warm and soft on his, and Cain didn't seem to be able to move it away. He figured he would be hyper-sensitive coming out of the Suit, but her touch wasn't unpleasant.

Oath or no oath, he resigned himself to sticking around.

* * *

They entered the Northern Palace and saw the portrait hanging in the front hall; Ozma Galinda posed with the Regent. Cain's jaw almost flopped open when he got a good look. He could see the similarities between D.G. and the Queen well enough, but the Regent was the bigger shock.

The differences were obvious – the Regent's hair was tidy, his suit perfectly tailored, and his expression every bit the aristocrat. The similarities were just as obvious – the black hair, heavy-lidded eyes, and beak-like nose.

"I knew I wasn't an idiot." Glitch said with awe. He shot a glance over in Cain's direction. "Or a convict. I _was _the Queen's Advisor."

If Cain had known earlier his rescuers/charges weren't ordinary fugitives, but the Lost Princess and the exiled Regent (both cursed with amnesia), he might have been embarrassed...or maybe a tad more charitable. As it stood, he was just trying to believe it was happening.

Of course, things went to hell fast after that.

They ran to one of the bedchambers and Raw babbled in his fractured Common about a tragedy that took place. Placing one paw on the mirror, he showed them the tragedy – a teenage Azkedellia murdering her five-annual-old sister and Ozma Galinda giving up much of her magic and the secret of the Emerald in the process of restoring life to D.G..

_She damned us all with that, he thought. With her magic gone, the land withered and disasters could not be averted. The Deserts kept Ix, Ev, and the Nome Kingdom from invading, but otherwise, that was the day the peaceful land of Oz became the pariah state called the Outer Zone. _

_You've room to talk, Cain. Ozma Galinda damned Oz saving her family. You damned your family trying to save Oz._

"Mother never could leave well enough alone."

They had no time to react when Azkedellia showed up with her "entourage." The three men attempted to close ranks around D.G., but it was no use. Zero was smirking at him as Cain was relieved of his weapon.

"You're my sister," D.G. said coldly, stepping forward to confront her.

"D.G.," Azkedellia said in a voice like poppies – sickly-sweet and poisonous. "The little sister I thought I no longer had. I always wondered what you'd look like"

Glitch stepped to her side. "Leave her alone."

Cain made up his mind in that moment. He liked Glitch, despite the man being an aristocrat and a zipperhead.

"What do you want?"

Normally, people cowered in the presence of the Sorceress, gibbering and begging for their lives. The fact that D.G. held her ground made Cain's heart swell a bit with pride._ That's my girl. _

Too bad they all were about to die.

"Well, up until a moment ago, I wanted your death." The Sorceress chuckled to herself. "But now it seems you have something I need."

"What?"

"The Emerald. You know where it is."

Raw stood behind her, the hair on his back up on end and looking ready to attack. Hands on hips, D.G. looked to Cain as he stood to her right and Glitch, standing to her left.

"Don't tell me you haven't dreamed of it, heard it calling to you, begging to be found from its dark hiding place." Azkedellia was pouring it on, gloating over the position of power she had.

"No, I haven't," D.G. said tersely.

"No?"

"No."

The rotten sweetness left Azkedellia's voice. "What did she whisper in your ear?"

D.G. rolled her eyes. "I don't remember!"

Azkedellia started to walk away. "Well, that's a shame."

"How can I tell you what I don't remember?" D.G. called after her.

Zero was laughing softly with two of his bully-boys in the back. Cain glared at him, which only made Zero snigger harder. _ If it's the last thing I do, Zero, my boot's headed for your ass._

Zero flipped Cain an obscene gesture as soon as Azkedellia averted her eyes, summoning what looked like a square lantern and tossing it at D.G.. The face of Ozma Galinda looked out from it.

"_D.G., where are you?" _the Queen cried desperately.

D.G. looked at it in astonishment, then back up at her sister. "What have you done with her?"

"Put her away for safekeeping," Azkedellia snarled. "Like any good daughter would."

"Where?" D.G.'s voice was a razor's edge.

"Somewhere you will never find her," the Sorceress boasted.

D.G. seized her chance, dashing the magical box against the stones where it shattered in a cloud of smoke.

"Go!" Cain shouted.

The other three scattered and fled, Longcoats and the Sorceress herself on their tail. Cain faced the Longcoats alone, knowing he wasn't going to hold out long.

_All I have to do is buy them a little time. _He made his peace with the Unnamed God, and asked for strength.

While the rest went after his companions, Zero and two others came at him. Cain lashed out with a savage kick to one's midsection, and pummeled the other with his fists. They both collapsed to the floor.

He was alone with Zero.

_Traitor...betrayer...murderer._

Once upon a time, they had been partners in the Corps, close as brothers. That was before the dark times, before they made their choice as to whether or not to to serve Azkedellia.

Cain grabbed Zero's arm and twisted, hoping to break it. He succeeded in forcing the gun from the other man's hand, as it dropped to the floor.

The men resorted to fists and feet, punching and blocking. Zero's metal gauntlet slammed into Cain's temple, dazing him for a moment, long enough for Zero to get the upper hand. As he was getting to his feet, Cain saw the two Longcoats he'd incapacitated earlier get to their feet and close in.

"Now I know why they call you Zero," Cain taunted. "You still can't fight your own battles."

He gestured for the other two Longcoats to stand back. "I do my share."

He survived for revenge, but he would live for his oaths, even if only for a few precious minutes. _Defend with my axe, shield with my tin..._

More blows, more fists. For a moment, it seemed like the bastard might actually fight fair. Cain raised his hand to block a fist, and found himself held fast. One of Zero's bully boys had his large arms around Cain's chest, holding him securely.

_Figures._

The second Longcoat started to rain blows on Cain, but Cain was past caring – past pain. This was the end and there was nothing to lose. He was no longer seeking death, but he wasn't afraid of it.

Jumping up, he drove his fist into the second Longcoat's chest as he struggled free of the first.

That's when Zero went for the kill, clocking him from behind, smashing his knee into Cain's nose. Weakened by the earlier beatings, Cain was trying to stand, but the fight was over. Zero raised that gauntlet and clubbed him, knocking him to the ground.

Cain lay on the floor, gasping. Zero went for the gun.

"No Iron Suit for you this time." He picked up the gun, sneering.

Cain's whole body screamed. He had to get up. He had to...

"Your wife," Zero said. "And child. Crying for years for me to free you from it."

Cain's heart jolted into his throat. "My family's alive?"

"Hardly matters now," Zero drawled.

No sooner had Cain risen to his feet than Zero fired.

The last thing Cain remembered was crashing through the window and a long fall into bitter cold.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Despite the hardships this vow may bring,**_

_**I take this oath freely, and with all my heart.**_

The next thing he remembered was hearing movement and reaching for his gun. He was too groggy for much else. Very gently, his arm was pushed aside and he heard footsteps.

"You've been sleeping for hours like a baby with his pacifier." Cain relaxed at hearing Glitch's shaky tenor. He cracked his eyes open to see the man loading wood into the small fireplace.

"I thought you were dead." Cain said tiredly.

A pause., and the bed creaked. He could feel Glitch sitting near his feet. "Ditto." The voice was quiet and subdued.

There was so much he wanted to say and so much he wanted to ask, but the most he could manage was to keep breathing.

"You know, I may have saved you from hypothermia, but...um...this is what saved you life." There wasn't the nervousness in Gitch's voice as he spoke, just a quiet gravity and compassion. He held something out towards Cain.

It took a moment for his eyes to focus. In Glitch's long fingers, there was Jeb's little tin horse, the bullet lodged in its forelegs.

"It stopped the bullet." Glitch said.

Cain brought the toy to rest on his chest, taking a few breaths for strength. "D.G.?"

Glitch bowed his head. "Azkedellia."

"Raw?"

"I...I don't know. Can't find him." Those heavy-lidded eyes were full of pain. "Maybe they took him, too, or he's dead. "

"Maybe he ran away." It wasn't an unreasonable idea. This wasn't the Viewer's fight, and his kind had more to fear than most.

"You know, you should really do something about that _bitter_ cynicism of yours, Cain."

"Why?" Cain answered, making a weak attempt at humor. "Someone's got to keep your wide-eyed optimism in check."

Glitch turned away angrily and looked into the fire. They sat there silence for a few moments before Cain spoke again.

"Hey, Glitch..."

"What?" Glitch said sharply.

He wanted to say _"I'm sorry,"_ but it didn't come out that way. "I owe you one."

Glitch turned, a smile as warm as summer across his angular face. "You know, Cain, psychiatric therapy is only a crow's call away these days..."

He was about interrupt and ask Glitch about the hypothermia part when he looked around. De Milo kept a decent furnace in this crate, and there were plenty of blankets. Still it would take a long time to warm a man just with -

Glitch's shirt was on backwards, and the zipper-head was blushing a bit. That told the story of just _how_ he had been warmed up. And come to think on it, when he had been pulled out of the suit, he had been bathed and put in a nightshirt...

So much for dignity on this trip. Kicker of it was that he didn't really care.

"We're going after her, right?" he asked.

"Well, yes." Glitch said. "It's the reason I saved your life, even if you can be an ass. I go alone, and I'm liable to forget who I'm looking for at the worst possible moment. Now, I've fixed the axle..." Glitch moved to the front and the driver's seat, adjusting the mirrors. "It's...south...southwest! That's it!"

And as he heard Glitch fire up the truck and felt it move beneath him, Cain put the little tin horse to the side and reached over for his coat, still drying on the line. He pulled the tin badge out of his pocket.

The Mystic Man was right, and so was Glitch. He would find the Princess, and hope he could find Raw, too. They saved his life so he could save theirs, not throw it all away on revenge.

And maybe...maybe his family was still out there.

The first time he swore the Oath, he was twenty-two, standing in the open air of Wizard's Square, one hand on the Oziad and the other held to his heart. This time, he said it only to himself and the Unnamed God.

_**I swear to defend with my axe**_

_**And to shield with my tin,**_

_**The safety of the innocent that is more dear than my own,**_

_**From the smallest insect to the greatest monarch.**_

_**I protect the good from the wicked; so I must be pure of heart**_

_**I defend the truth; so I must never lie.**_

_**Standing guard so others may rest, I work and do not tire.**_

_**I am prepared at any moment to give my life for those I protect.**_

_**Despite the hardships this vow may bring,**_

_**I take this oath freely, and with all my heart.**_

_**I serve and protect the Land of Oz.**_

_**I am a Tin Man.**_

He wasn't a former Tin Man. He _still _was a Tin Man – and as long as he lived, so did the Oath.


End file.
